


Confession is good for the soul

by fromthedeskoftheraven



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, Love Confessions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-13
Updated: 2016-02-13
Packaged: 2018-05-20 01:09:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5987116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fromthedeskoftheraven/pseuds/fromthedeskoftheraven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chapter 2 of the Mapmaker Series. A human woman joins the company of Thorin Oakenshield on the quest to Erebor as a mapmaker and finds a lifelong love.</p><p>Thorin confesses his love to the mapmaker, leading to their first kiss.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Confession is good for the soul

You were vaguely aware of a voice breaking into your reverie. You turned to see Thorin walking beside you with a concerned look on his face and shook your head slightly, focusing your attention. “Sorry?” 

“I asked if you were all right? You were frowning,” he answered. 

“Oh! Yes! I was just…lost in thought, I guess. Yes,” you smiled brightly, “I’m fine.” 

“Good.” He returned your smile. “Only another mile or two and we’ll make camp for the night.” His hand rested briefly on your shoulder and then he was gone, striding ahead to talk with Balin.

Your smile faded as you wondered what Thorin would have said if you’d told him that he was the cause of your furrowed brow. Ever since that frosty night when the dwarven King had invited you to share his warmth, you had been utterly smitten, and hoping that the feeling was mutual. But despite the occasional flicker of a shy smile, a look that lasted longer than mere friendliness would demand, a quick brush of his hand on your arm, Thorin’s heart was still a mystery to you. While you tried not to dwell on your seemingly unrequited longing, there were many quiet moments when he came unbidden into your mind, and you couldn’t help but wonder what he thought of you, if he thought of you at all.

And so it was that you were sitting on a log at the edge of a little clearing only a short distance from the camp, alone with your thoughts, breathing the fresh evening air and watching the birds fly home to their nests in the deepening twilight. The peace of the scene was suddenly shattered as a twig cracked loudly behind you, and you stood up quickly and whirled around, your hand fluttering to your chest in relief when when you saw that it was only Thorin. “I am sorry,” he said, looking rueful. “I did not mean to frighten you.” 

“It’s all right,” you replied, a nervous chuckle escaping you. “I suppose I’m a little jumpy…trolls and orc packs will do that.” 

He nodded, chuckling a bit himself. An awkward silence followed as your mind suddenly seemed a blank slate and Thorin made no move to speak. Abruptly, you blurted out, “I suppose I should be getting back to camp.” To your surprise, he moved closer to you, looking at you with a tender expression that made your breath catch in your throat. 

“Will you walk with me?” he asked quietly. Your mouth had suddenly gone so dry that all you could do was nod and follow him as he turned to walk back among the trees.

He led you through the forest, reaching out to steady you when you tripped over a tree root, warning you away from fallen logs and large rocks in the path. “Where are we going?” you asked, ducking under a low branch. 

Thorin smiled, but merely said, “I want to show you something.” 

A few paces more and you broke through the trees, finding yourself on a ridge overlooking a lush valley, and you knew instantly what he had wanted you to see. The most gorgeous moon you’d ever seen hung over the dusky landscape…perfectly round, glowing gold, and so huge you felt as if you could reach out and touch it. “Oh,” you breathed. “It’s so beautiful.” You turned to smile at Thorin, to thank him, but you found him looking intently at you. “What?” 

“It is not the most beautiful thing I have seen tonight,” he murmured.

Your heart beat faster, and you felt your cheeks flush hot as you smiled nervously and quickly dropped your eyes, but the sound of your name made you raise them again to meet his. “I have been a coward,” he said. 

“You? Never,” you teased, and he smiled in response, but pressed on. 

“I have lacked the courage to say to you…that is…I…” His voice trailed off, and he turned to face the dark valley, shaking his head and running his hand through his hair. “I am not a dwarf of many words, I have no gift for wooing.” 

“You are exactly as I should wish you to be,” you said sincerely, your voice trembling, and he turned back to you with the flame of hope kindled in his eyes. 

“Am I?” Emboldened by your words, he took your two small hands in his large ones and held them gently. “I am no poet or minstrel, but believe me when I tell you that you have captured my heart, and it will belong to you until the end of my days. I have wanted so much to tell you, only…I did not know…” Tears welled in your eyes and you squeezed his hands as he searched your face and gave voice to the fear that had plagued him since the day he’d first laid eyes on you. “Can you love someone like me?” 

Your whole heart went out to him, this loyal, loving, noble, burdened, heroic one, and you didn’t hesitate. “Oh, Thorin, yes,” you answered, your pent-up emotions bursting forth in a ripple of hushed laughter, “yes.” 

A broad grin broke over Thorin’s face and he gathered you into an embrace, one hand stroking your hair as he sighed, “oh, my sweet.” He pulled back, looking at your face as though he wanted to memorize it, then gently placed a calloused hand on either side of your head and slowly, softly pressed his lips to yours. 

You closed your eyes, savoring the feel of his weather-roughened lips and soft beard. The kiss deepened as his hands went to the small of your back and you wound your arms around his neck, inhaling the scent of leather and earth and musk that was uniquely his. Finally — sooner than either of you wanted — Thorin broke the kiss and rested his forehead against yours. “We should really get back to camp now,” he whispered, and you nodded, tracing his jawline with your thumb. “There is just one more thing,” he added. 

Brushing your hair back from your face with his hand, he parted off a small section, which he began to braid as you watched him curiously. When he reached the end of the braid, he tugged loose a heavy, silver bead from one of his own braids and used it to finish yours. The bead was cool against your neck, and you picked it up, examining its intricate engraving in the moonlight. “What is this?” 

“It is a courting braid. Among dwarves, it will mark you as my beloved…if you do not mind?” In answer, you kissed him again, smiling against his lips, almost unable to contain your happiness.

You headed back to rejoin the company, this time with your hand held securely in his. You felt a little self-conscious walking into the camp hand in hand with Thorin, the firelight catching the glint of silver in your hair. Of course Fili smirked and nudged Kili, who raised his eyebrows in surprise. Balin threw you a kindly smile and a wink. You saw Thorin and Dwalin exchange small nods. The two of you sat down close to the fire just as Bofur struck up a rollicking tune about an inn and a cat and the man in the moon, and as you rested your head on Thorin’s shoulder, you knew that, no matter what dangers lay ahead, there was nowhere else you’d rather be.


End file.
